Protection

So after a little debate we decided that yesterday would be the official "big boy bed" day. It was strange as we took apart Deacon's crib and spent some time putting up the bed rails to convert it to a full-sized bed... I was trying to pump him up and remind him of how big he's getting and yet, I think I was actually convincing myself of it as well. Now don't get me wrong, it was my idea... I think he might have stayed in his crib until he was 5... but it was a feeling of anticipation, of preparation, of change, and of letting go.

While Dusty and I discussed doing this yesterday and made a short-list of pros & cons, all I could think of was that if Maddox were here, if he had been whole and made to live with us, Deacon would have already been in his bed for 6 months. Yet, as my firstborn child took his first nap in the "big boy bed" I felt a twinge of sadness. I honestly can't believe that he's old enough to be out of a crib. I can't believe that as he continues to grow, slowly we are being called to begin loosening the reins. I certainly know that he won't be little forever, but somehow in my mind the crib symbolizes protection. Somehow, for 2 years and 9 months I have felt certain of where he would be when I walked into that room each morning. Now I realize things are different.

Just before midnight last night I heard a loud thud. I couldn't get there fast enough as I already knew what had happened... Lying in a little pile on the floor, crying, was my sweet Deacon. I scooped him up in my arms and sitting on the floor began to rock him back and forth. Through his tears he said "I rolled... too far... and then I fall." It was only a matter of minutes before he was settled back in the bed, positioned up against the wall, and already back to asleep. I am grateful that by morning his little mind didn't even remember the fall. He didn't remember... but I sure did! And somehow in these moments, I think I always will. God has again taught me something in my own little world.

The sights and sounds from last night- the sound of falling, the tearful sobs, the little body crumpled up on the floor- reminded me of how the Lord loves us. That crib was the symbol of safety, the symbol of protection... But just as Deacon couldn't stay there forever, neither can we. Slowly we have to move out into this imperfect world. Slowly, just like little children, our rails must be removed as we attain more freedom. Yet, with that freedom comes the possibility of getting hurt... maybe due to no fault of our own or maybe because we rolled too far and then fell. Just as I knew it was possible for my 29-lb boy to fall from that bed, God also knows ahead of time what "possibilities" lie ahead of us. Sometimes those possibilities are realized as a consequence of our own actions... sometimes they come through God removing the rails and allowing us to fall... and sometimes they come because God knows that without a doubt we will stumble and fall, but His perfect protection can be demonstrated through allowing us to cry out from the ground to be picked up in His loving arms.

I have realized firsthand this year that my meager efforts to protect my own children aren't enough. I don't have power over most things and though as a mother I am constantly concerned about the safety of my children, I know that it is something I can't ever fully own. I can't protect Deacon from falling out of a bed, I can't protect Maddox from the realities of this world and that it doesn't sustain his life, and I can't protect Faith Clare from the many unknowns, even as she resides within my body. As much as I desperately want to cling to my children, to never let them out of my sight, to want to wrap them up and keep them in constant protection... I know that it isn't my place. I know that I am not capable of protecting them from the things of this world and that is not what God has placed solely on my shoulders. However, what I can do is pray~ constantly~ over them. I can pray for their safety, pray for their protection, and pray for my heart to be prepared for the falls.

Undoubtedly, I know that my children will stumble ("For we all stumble in many ways..." James 3:2), that they will fall, and that there will be several more moments of little ones lying on the floor in tears needing to be picked back up. For the most part while they are little, I hope they are my arms that can do the scooping... But I also pray that through my loving them, through picking them back up, they will see the love of their Lord. I pray that as they continue to grow, they too will feel the arms of the Only One who can pick us back up and place our feet on solid ground, settling us back in, comforting us and beckoning us to continue forward. Thankfully, His protection is eternal.

"But let all who take refuge in you be glad; let them ever sing for joy. Spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may rejoice in you."- Psalm 5:11